I went to my therapist today.
Normally it would be just another hour of silence, today I talked. The entire hour I spoke, telling her everything.
I told her of the voices, and the visions, and the even my wish to die.
It was an emotional hour. I spent lots of it crying and she spent lots of it comforting me. I had never seen her pencil move so fast across the paper.
I hope she doesn't tell my parents. They would really worry about me if they knew everything.
She said that she would be changing my medicine, but she doesn't have to know I don't plan on taking any of it.
I don't like the way it makes me feel. The medicine makes me tired and grumpy, and it feels like someone is controlling my head.
When I take medicine the voice inside my head threatens me. It tells me how it'll do bad things if I don't flush the pill down the toilet.
I also finally found out what the medical term for what's wrong with me is. The paper she had been writing on said Dan Smith, severe schizophrenia.
So after my therapy or whatever I walked to the library. I then looked up what it meant.
I'm crazy.
Or that's basically what the website said.
It also said that forty percent of people with whatever I have attempt suicide. That's really sad.
I've decided that I'm not going to be that forty percent. I'm going to be the sixty percent.
Sure I want to die, but I don't want to be just another sad statistic.
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So I've done a ton of research on schizophrenia so I'll try and make this as accurate as possible. I always hate when the story doesn't isn't factually correct.
